


Kings Of the Kill

by FallingLikeThis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: American AU, Halloween, Happy Ending?, Harry delivers pizza, Humor, It's hard to tag this one because I don't want to give anything away, M/M, Pizza, Ritual Sacrifice, creepy-ish, most of them do, sassy bitches, the rating is for the subject matter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:59:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: A pizza boy delivering a pizza to someone who looks to be in the middle of a satanic ritual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kings Of the Kill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CalamityK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityK/gifts).



> I hope you like this. I did my best.
> 
> Artwork from the wonderful [CalamityK](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityK/pseuds/CalamityK)
> 
> Thank you so much to Sammie and Michelle for looking over this for me. <3
> 
> To anyone iffy about reading this, afraid it might trigger something, I'll spoil it for you in the end notes so you can feel safer if you still choose to read it.

_ _

_We never shoot to stun. We’re kings of the kill and we’re out for blood._

–Ruelle “Monsters”

 

Harry can understand why the other delivery drivers hate working Halloween. They get plenty of calls for parties, most legit but several as some sort of prank. Either they order pizzas to houses that don’t actually want any, or they order them for a house full of people and try to skip out on the bill by disappearing in the crowd. He’s better than most at getting them to pay though. He’s got a good memory for faces and he’ll hunt them down if he has to, charming them with a wide smile and irresistible dimples.

Of course, then there are the _weird_ orders. Harry’s staring at one right now that states they’d like a virgin delivery person, please. Or if they can’t have a virgin, they’d like the most amiable person available. Harry raises a brow at the request but he does fit the addendum. Asher is out on delivery, Tyler is always cross about something or other, and Hayden hates dealing with the ‘weirdos’. He’s not going to ask if either of the ones left behind are virgins, that feels a bit too personal, so Harry is this customer’s best bet. He shrugs to himself and grabs their order, taking it out to his car. It’ll be his last delivery of the night anyway.

The house looks pretty normal when Harry pulls up to it. It’s a modest, two-story brownstone with a well-kept yard. There’s candlelight playing in the windows as he walks up the porch steps, thunder rumbling a warning in the distance. Harry hesitates for a minute at the doorbell, concerned that by pressing it, he may be interrupting something. The quiet and candlelight suggests this isn’t the typical party he’s stumbled upon and half his mind is running wild with thoughts of séances and the veil between the living and the dead being at its thinnest this night. He’d hate to think of someone losing the chance to say goodbye to a loved one if he interrupts a crucial moment of some important ceremony. The other half of him, the practical half, is telling him they probably wouldn’t have ordered pizza if they were doing something that couldn’t be put on hold. He presses his thumb gingerly against the little button and hopes that his practical side is right.

Harry hears footsteps nearing through the door and runs a hand through his hair as he waits.

The front door swings in to reveal a very pretty lad wearing black robes. He’s got that messy hair that makes his look effortlessly sexy and what appear to be runes painted a deep red on his cheeks. He looks Harry over with a smirk, taking in his ripped skinnies and tight Vincenzo’s Pizza shirt with a smirk working on his lips.

“Well. There’s no _way_ you’re a virgin,” the man says flicking his hair out of his eyes with one hand while Harry’s eyes get caught on the way he licks his lips.

“Thank you? I guess,” Harry answers, though he doesn’t think he’d mind being one if this guy wanted to deflower him. The robes and runes doing nothing to deter Harry’s mind from this line of thinking. It is Halloween after all.

“Oh, it’s definitely a compliment,” the man states, eyes trailing hungrily down Harry’s body again.

“Uh, thanks, then,” Harry says more definitively, a little hypnotized by the blue of the man’s eyes before he shakes it off and looks down at his order form. “I have three Quattro Stagioni pizzas for a Louis Tomlinson?”

“That’s me,” Louis smiles, pulling a wallet out from somewhere in his robes. “What do I owe you, fit pizza man?”

Harry chuckles an embarrassed laugh, eyes falling to the ground. He’s usually the one doing the charming, not the other way around. “M’name’s Harry, and um, $28.95.”

“Here you are, Harry,” Louis says, handing over the bills with a wink, Harry’s name falling from his lips like a caress. He gives Harry forty dollars but declines when Harry offers change.

“Thank you,” Harry feels a bit dumb repeating himself so many times as he takes the money from Louis’ hand. He opens the warmer and pulls out Louis’ pizzas, passing them over. There’s something pulling at the back of Harry’s mind, telling him to linger. Wanting him to spend a little more time in Louis’ company. But then there’s that other voice in his head, the one that sounds a bit like his mother warning him about the dangers of trusting a relative stranger. “Have a good night,” he waves awkwardly, backing down the porch.

“Hey, wait,” Louis says just as Harry’s reached his car and thrown the warmer on his passenger seat. Putting the pizzas down on a table just inside the door, he turns back to Harry with a calculating look on his face. “Do you want to come inside for a bit?”

“I really shouldn’t,” Harry answers even as his eyes stray curiously past Louis’ shoulder to look through the door behind him. The candlelight theme seems to carry on inside. “I should— Is your electricity out?”

Louis chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, just a few Halloween activities going on.”

There’s a shriek from inside, a girl from the sound of it, and Harry starts at the unexpected break in the otherwise quiet night. He takes a step forward, feeling a surge of adrenaline and an undeniable urge to investigate.

“Don’t worry,” Louis tells him, a secretive lilt to the edge of his smile as his eyes watch Harry with a hint of trouble. “We’re putting on a haunted house, is all. It’s a fraternity thing.”

“We’re 87 miles from the nearest college.” Harry knows because he used to go there. His skin prickles with a sense of danger.

Louis’ smirk grows as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Fraternity is just another word for brotherhood, Harry. Don’t have to go to college for that.”

Well, _that_ doesn’t sound menacing _at all_.

“I suppose not,” Harry answers easily though his eyes remain trained on the rectangle of black that’s only made to seem deeper by the firelight behind Louis’ back.

“Aww,” Louis coos, walking forward and meeting Harry where he stands. He oozes grace and confidence, the robes swirling around him as he moves only adding to the effect. “Feeling protective, Harry?” He taunts, leaning up to whisper in Harry’s ear. “Have to come inside if you want to protect her.”

Harry stares down at Louis warily. The man who seemed so lovely a moment ago, now threatening in his confidence, like a viper waiting to strike and knowing his aim will be true. “I thought you said there was nothing to worry about.”

“Hmm. But you don’t seem to believe me,” Louis turns, walking back to the door. He addresses Harry again once he’s standing with his hand on the doorknob. “Looks like the only way to make sure is to come inside.”

Harry bites his lip. If something bad _were_ happening in there, it’s probably already too late to stop it. It’s the ‘probably’ that won’t let him get in his car and leave. He can’t risk the chance that there’s someone who needs help. “I could call the cops,” he says pulling out his phone.

“You could,” Louis concedes thoughtfully. “Of course, you’d feel a bit foolish if they got here and all they found was a bunch of people having fun scaring each other. But you go ahead. I’m sure, what with it being Halloween and all, they’ll rush right over,” Louis leans against the door frame, getting comfortable. “Go on then, I’ll wait here.”

Harry sighs in defeat looking down at the phone in his hands. Of course, the police are going to have it even worse with the prank calls pouring in than the pizza shop had. Who even knows if they’ll listen to Harry? He glances back up at Louis to see a triumphant smirk on his face.

Louis takes a step back into the house without taking his eyes off Harry or his hand off the doorknob. “Last chance to get inside without having to resort to breaking and entering, Harry. What will it be?”

Harry swallows, this was not the way he saw his night going.

Another scream, this time male, pierces the night and Harry hurries forward to step through the door before Louis can shut it on him. He knows he’s walking into the lion’s den but he doesn’t have it in him to cower when someone may be in trouble.

“There’s a good lad,” Louis says, hand dropping down on Harry’s shoulder as the door shuts with an ominous slam of finality.

Harry jumps at the touch, hyperaware of the dimness around him and the man who’s drawn him into this mess.

“Relax, Harry,” Louis laughs, removing his hand to pick up the pizzas and brushing past to lead Harry deeper into the darkness. He turns, looking at Harry over his shoulder. “I’ll protect you.”

Harry doesn’t really believe him. Nor should he, he suspects. Especially when Louis winks and adds “for now” a moment later before turning back to watch where he’s going.

The darkness recedes a bit as they enter a room filled with candles. You’d think there would be relief in being able to see your surroundings but, if anything, it only adds to the frightening feeling permeating the house. Shadows ebb and change with the flickering flames, taunting Harry at the edges of his vision as his takes in everything that the light manages to offer. The first thing that catches Harry’s eye is a table in the middle of the room. It’s thick, sturdy with wide legs and stands just tall enough to reach past Harry’s hips. He’s drawn to it because there’s something unmistakably red pooling across its surface, spilling over the sides in soft, quiet droplets, and slithering down its legs. It seems to be the same color as the substance that paints Louis’ cheeks and Harry, once again, finds himself hypnotized by the steady rhythm as each drop hits the floor. “Is this- what is this?” He asks, turning to Louis for an answer but finding none when the man seems to have vanished into the darkness.

“What do we have here?” A new voice mocks from behind and Harry turns to find himself faced with another robe-clad member of Louis’ _brotherhood_. He’s just as pretty as Louis, a light stubble decorating his cheeks and light café au lait eyes boring into Harry from beneath the hood of his robe with an intensity that sends shivers down his back. “Another little lamb, lost in the dark?”

“He’s pretty,” a second voice, sweet and feminine, chimes in as a girl, also robed, steps into the light beside him. Apparently, brotherhood isn’t exactly the right word for whatever these people are.  “Cult” is seeming more and more appropriate.

“He’s mine,” Louis informs them, voice steely as he returns to Harry’s side, hand sliding possessively over the small of his back.

“Don’t worry,” the hooded man says with a half-grin that’s both menacing and playful. “We only wanted to play.”

“I don’t think _I_ want to play,” Harry’s voice trembles the slightest bit and he steps back into Louis’ touch. Maybe it’s the whole “devil you know” thing because he’s actually had a bit of a conversation with Louis but Harry trusts him just a bit more than the other two. Enough to find comfort in the hand still resting on his back, laying a claim to him.

“Aww, sweetness,” the girl coos, rising a hand to run perfectly manicured, red nails down Harry’s cheek. “What makes you think you get a choice?”

He turns to Louis expecting him to say something, anything. Tell them to back off or _something_. But all Harry gets is another of those wicked smirks and it feels a bit to Harry like the girl is right. Because if this is a game, he’s pretty sure he’s already playing. Cats and mouse.

“Where are your manners, Lou?” The girl asks with a tilt of her head as she runs a hand down Harry’s arm, squeezing his bicep before moving on as Harry tries to shrink back from her. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Not it you don’t keep your hands to yourself, Barbara,” Louis answers, removing her hand from Harry’s arm himself and pushing it back at her.

“Oh, Lou,” she pouts insincerely, “don’t be like that.”

“Did I have my hands all over yours?” Louis asks, brow arched in a clear show that he’s unimpressed.

“Your what?” Harry asks, not entirely sure he wants to know the answer.

The hooded man laughs lightly, tongue tucked behind his teeth in a manner that Harry would think was cute if he didn’t feel so on edge at the moment. He lowers his hood to reveal hair that’s bleached platinum blonde. It’s a good look for him, Harry thinks as he clings to superficial observations in an effort to keep from reminding himself that he voluntarily walked into this situation.

“You’ll find out,” the blonde man says, still wearing a smile.

Another shriek slices through the night and Harry jumps, eyes rising to the ceiling. Whoever it was, whatever is happening, it’s going on upstairs. He glances at the three robed figures, their eyes still trained on the ceiling and tenses to run. He can just make out the beginnings of a staircase on the left side of the room. If he can’t get to whoever’s in trouble, at least he might be able to hide in the dark.

Unfortunately, Louis’ hand still rests on Harry’s back and he feels the muscles tensing in anticipation. He grabs Harry’s wrist and holds tight. “Easy there, hero. If you run now, you’ll ruin the surprise.”

Instead of fighting, Harry goes pliant. He’ll give Louis a false sense of security, _then_ he’ll run. From the look Louis gives him, he thinks the man may already be onto him because he doesn’t let go or loosen his grip. “Harry, meet Barbara and Zayn. Barbara, Zayn, this is fit pizza man, Harry.”

“Seen a lot of those lately,” Zayn mutters, eyeing Harry once more. “Fit pizza men. And women.”

Barbara laughs, like Zayn has said something terribly funny. “Should we add him to the collection?”

“What- what collection?” Harry asks, swallowing harshly. It’s occurring to him that maybe he’s made a grave mistake.

“Why don’t I show you?” Louis answers, hand sliding down to link with Harry’s before he’s tugging Harry to the stairs.

Harry follows easily but only because it will get him closer to whoever needs help. Running out the front door would be safer, saner. But Harry would never be able to live with himself. “Are you still protecting me?” He wonders as he feels Zayn and Barbara close behind him on the stairs.

“I’m still holding onto you, aren’t I?” Louis throws over his shoulder.

“You’re also leading me to my doom, it seems,” Harry states quietly as Barbara and Zayn snigger behind him. He’s nervous, maybe a little frightened but determined not to flee in the event he’d be leaving someone else in danger. Louis’ hand gives his a little squeeze as they reach the second floor landing. It’s ridiculous that it should give Harry any kind of comfort, but against all odds, it does.

Louis leads Harry down a dimly lit hallway, only the moonlight shining through the window to lead them. They reach a bedroom on the right, the door open and more candles lighting the space inside. There are candles everywhere. This is probably the most well-lit room in the house. Which is why Harry has no trouble seeing the five people huddled in the corner, all wearing the uniforms of different Pizzerias in the area. His blood runs cold at the sight. Three of them have their heads bent, something red staining their shirts. Another hooded figure hovering over the two that are now looking at Harry with wide, pleading eyes. Their hands are tied behind their backs and they’re kneeling before man holding them captive.

“You were supposed to wait for us, Stan,” Louis scolds sternly.

“Sorry,” Stan shrugs, unbothered by Louis’ ire. “They were mouthy.”

Zayn snorts behind Harry, reminding him of who he has at his back. He shifts a little to the left until he has all of them in his line of sight. If something horrible is going to happen to him, he’d rather it not be a surprise.

Barbara saunters over to the two, trembling pizza men and takes the chin of the younger looking, blonde one between her thumb and forefinger. “They’re just so cute when they’re scared. Almost makes me regret this.”

Harry watches, frozen to the spot, as she takes what looks like a ceremonial dagger, an athame if Harry remembers his Wiccan artifacts correctly, from Stan.

“Such a shame,” she says lowly, raising the blade to the blonde man’s throat.

“No!” Harry yells, throwing himself across the room so fast he tumbles down on top of the other two delivery men. “Take me instead.”

Zayn moves over to them, brow arching at Harry. “Noble. But don’t worry, you’ll get your turn.”

“What is it that you think this is going to get you?” Harry asks desperately.

“Money,” Barbara grins.

“Power,” Zayn adds.

“Fame,” Stan says, looking to Louis for his contribution.

“A bit of fun,” Louis shrugs, stepping up to stand in front of the others, obviously their leader. “You want to go next, Harry? Allow me to do the honors.”

Harry trembles, swallowing harshly as Louis takes the dagger from Barbara and holds it to his throat. This was definitely a _mistake_.

“Any last words, love?” Louis asks.

“Yeah,” Harry answers, drawing himself up to his knees like the others, stare going hard and determined as he raises his head, daring to give Louis full access even as he quakes with fear. “Go to hell.”

“You first,” Louis retorts, pressing the blade lightly against Harry’s skin. “Save me a seat.”

“Front row, center,” Harry agrees, staring unblinking at Louis. If Louis is going to do this, Harry’s going to make sure he’ll remember Harry’s face for the rest of his life.

“Cheeky,” Louis smirks and slices the blade across Harry’s throat.

 

*****

 

Harry blinks as Louis and his friends stare down at him. He brings a hand up to his throat and pulls his fingers back sticky and red. But… He’s fine. There’s no cut across his neck. He’s not dead. He’s not dying. _What the hell?_

The room rumbles with laughter as Harry tries to get his brain to register what just happened. Even the two blokes on their knees on either side of him are laughing. The athame, apparently a trick blade, having fallen to ground in front of him.

The blonde one pats Harry’s shoulder. “Thanks for not letting them kill me, mate,” he says, laughing cheerfully. “Good lad.”

Harry stares at him and finally his head gets the message: it was a joke. No one died, no one was going to die. Harry’s been duped. His cheeks go red with embarrassment and anger as he picks up that stupid dagger and clutches it in a white knuckled grip.

“Need help?” Louis’ voice somehow filters through all the angry thoughts in Harry’s head but Harry just stares at the hand he’s offering until his mouth catches up to his brain.

“What _the fuck_?” Harry exclaims over the uproar of talking voices as he stands without Louis’ help. “You fucking assholes.”

“Hey,” one of the pizza men he’d originally thought dead speaks to him. “Don’t feel bad. We’re all here because we got tricked into it.” He gestures to the other people still in their work uniforms and they all nod in agreement for Harry’s benefit. “I mean, they went all out with yours, but we’re all in the same boat.”

“It was just a game, Harry,” Louis says quietly, standing nervously off to the side. “Please don’t be mad.”

“And how was this ‘game’ supposed to work? You keep ordering pizzas until someone dies of a heart attack?” Harry rounds on him.

“No. You were the last. It was a tie breaker,” Louis explains, head bowed and looking contrite as he speaks. “The idea is that you have to get the person to come inside even under the worst circumstances.”

“Barbara only got Niall inside,” Zayn joins in, bumping his arm against Louis’ and getting rewarded with a small, grateful smile. “I got Perrie and Liam. Louis got Cal and Oli. There was one other guy I was supposed to get to come in but I failed. And then Louis pulled you.”

“So why wasn’t the game automatically over once I was inside?” Harry asks, frustrated but calming down pretty quickly. It is Halloween. Shit like this is to be expected. Kind of.

Louis shrugs guiltily. “It should have been. I guess, I just… didn’t want you to leave.”

His eyes trail up to Harry’s face as he says the last bit but then fall back to the floor at Harry’s frown.

“You could have just _asked_ me to stay.”

Louis scoffs. “I _did_. Or do you not remember? Before you even heard the first scream.”

Now that he mentions it, Harry _does_ remember and Louis is right. He did ask before everything went to hell. “Oh.”

“Anyway,” Louis continues talking, fingers brushing his hair out of the way again. “I _really_ wanted you to stay once you came inside because I knew from the moment you stepped into the house that you were different.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, curious what Louis means by ‘different’.

Louis smiles at him, pride glowing from his eyes. “You came in because you wanted to help someone. Everyone else came in because we batted our lashes at them and they were hoping for a hookup. No matter how weird we acted.”

“Really?” Harry asks, confused. Because as attractive as he may have found Louis, they’d all come across as a little creepy even before they’d dragged him upstairs. He’s heard the phrase ‘don’t stick your dick in crazy’ and he’s always been a little repulsed by it but this situation seems like it would have been an appropriate time to listen to it. “Because no offense but I’d rather not have sex with someone who’s likely to sacrifice me in my sleep.”

“I’m not _actually_ in a cult, you do realize that?” Louis reminds him.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Zayn jokes, patting Louis on the shoulder before leaving them to coax the others downstairs so that they can deal with this in private.

“I’m really sorry, Harry,” Louis tries again once they’re alone, running the knuckles of one hand down Harry’s arm apologetically. “Please don’t hate me.”

Harry takes a deep breath and licks his lips. “I don’t hate you. I just… I could have pissed myself I was so scared, Louis. What would have happened then?”

“I would have ended it,” Louis promises, eyes lighting up as he remembers what actually happened. He grips Harry’s bicep excitedly. “But, Harry, you played along so well. You were absolutely beautiful rushing to Niall’s aid like that. You’re a bloody hero, Harry.”

Harry shrugs, cheeks pinking as he looks down at the knife he’s toying with in his hands. His fingers press in the side of the blade and it retracts in on itself, a red substance leaking out onto his fingers. “Didn’t actually save anyone, did I?”

“But you would’ve. You would have sacrificed yourself for a perfect stranger,” Louis argues, taking a step closer, unable to help being drawn to this amazing man that’s unlike any he’s ever known. “Can’t help but want to know people like that.”

“And what of people that make you think they’re going to sacrifice you for ‘a bit of fun’?” Harry asks, Louis so close that he has to look down into his eyes.

“Hopefully, they can be forgiven?” Louis pleads with his stare. “And maybe when he asks fit pizza man on a date, he’ll be given a second chance?”

“Perhaps,” Harry hums, considering Louis’ proposal. “ _If_ he stops seeing other pizza men and learns to call fit pizza man by his actual name.”

“I think I can do that,” Louis smiles, tentatively taking Harry’s hand. Harry lets him. “Do you want to go downstairs, _Harry_? Plenty of pizza and beer.”

“Sure,” Harry answers but stops Louis when he tries to pull him out of the room. “But first…”

Harry raises the athame he’s been fiddling with and slits Louis’ throat.

Louis makes a choked off noise of panic before he realizes what Harry’s done.

Harry smiles at the red line of liquid that spilled from the blade and is sliding harmlessly down Louis’ skin, eyes crinkling with mirth. “You’re right. That was fun.”

“Do you feel better now?” Louis asks, brow arched but he’s having fight back a laugh. The man can give as good as he gets. That’s definitely a plus if he’s going to be dating Louis.

“Much,” Harry answers with a grin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for sticking around. If you leave a comment, I won't send Louis and his 'brotherhood' your way. *insert evil laugh here*
> 
> Also: here's the Tumblr fic post. If you liked it, please reblog: [Kings of the Kill](http://suddenclarityharry.tumblr.com/post/140119332457/kings-of-the-kill-author-fallinglikethis)
> 
> SPOILERY WARNING NOTES:
> 
> Basically, Louis is creepyish and manipulative to get Harry into his house where Zayn and Barbara are acting the same way. Harry won't leave because he heard someone scream and he refuses to leave behind someone who might be in danger. Anyway, they take Harry to a room where there appear to be dead bodies and two guys waiting to be killed. Harry jumps in front of one of them to save them and gets his throat cut instead. But the things is... IT'S NOT REAL. Everyone is fine.


End file.
